Advent Day 7

There is a sad-assed plastic Christmas tree
at the waiting area for the emergency room
where people have their baddest of days.
It works.
The tired styrofoam balls and
​drooping ribbons
converse with the surroundings;
the awards show on TV
the gray walls, industry-standard chairs and
plexiglass shields on everything. There are
also people, tired in their own ways.
Each carries their private pain
on display for others to
see if it weren't for their own
private pain
or the part of it that
is an emergent emergency today.

It's not a decoration—this 
sad-assed tree—but
a mirror tattered
and defiant in the darkest spaces.
We face it as our heavy chairs also
face it; a lonely spokesman
for the desperate cheer of
the cold season.
                                                                                                                                                --Adam Tierney-Eliot

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